Honey and Vinegar
by baneofJean
Summary: You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar." It all started with Harry trying to piss off Malfoy, but it didn't turn out quite as planned. Slash, sans fluff. More summary inside.
1. Things Don't Go As Planned

**Title: **Honey and Vinegar

**Setting; **early-mid 7th year

**Pairing(s):** Harry/Draco, (Ron/Hermione)

**Rating**: PG-13, for sexuality, and references to it

**Disclaimer:** HP is not mine (damn), please don't sue me

**WARNING:** this is a slash pairing, spec: boy/boy romance. You have been warned, now flee, homophobes, flee! Muahahaha!

**Music:** Alanis Morissette- 'under rug swept' (especially 'narcissus' and 'you owe me nothing in return'), and 'Bollywood Nights: The Finest Music from the Cinema of India'

Again, if homosexuality effects your senslessbilities, DON'T READ THIS, and if you still do and FLAME me for it, I will only laugh and point. >-P

Also, a warning that I'm making it so that Harry tried to forget the pain of his life by filling his, er, "social calendar" as it were, hehe >-)

**Part I:**

Harry stretched, arching his face towards the late afternoon sun. A broad smile on his face. It had been a great match, and Harry stood for a moment savoring the memory of the look on Malfoy's face as Harry grabbed the snitch from right in front of his nose. He chuckled and had just started walking to the castle when another figure leaving a different locker room caught his eye. Harry immediately recognized the figure as Malfoy.

Still riding the after affects of the adrenalin rush that is Quidditch Harry decided to have a little fun. "Oy, Malfoy!"

Malfoy stiffened, stopped and turned. "What do you want, Potter!" As Harry reached Malfoy he was slightly taken aback by the fire in his eyes. "Come to gloat?"

"No, actually I just wanted to say that you played a good match." Harry said genially, and although he was really just toying with Malfoy to see how he'd react, Harry was surprised to find that he didn't have to lie; Malfoy had been hard to beat.

Malfoy's eyes widened in surprise, and he appeared to, for once, be at a loss for something to say. "Oh."

"Did you train hard over the summer or something, because you're playing really, really well."

"Potter, what're you on about? Or what're you on?"

"Nothing! Really, you just did a really great job." Harry smiled innocently, innerly loving watching Malfoy squirm in confusion.

"Right." Draco half-wanted to say 'thank you', but knew that he would never thank someone like Harry Potter for anything; actually Draco didn't really thank _anyone_ for anything.

They had reached the castle at this point, and before Potter invited him to dinner Draco decided to cut their interlude short. "Well, Potter, it's been fun, but I have things to do. There's probably a big ego-enhancing party waiting for you, so sod off." Draco turned and started heading swiftly towards the dungeons, relieved that he had managed to escape Potter; or rather a seemingly under-the-influence Potter; although Draco wasn't sure exactly _what_ he was under the influence of.

"Wait, Malfoy, how's your Potions homework coming?"

"Uh… fine. Why?" Then Malfoy chuckled, "Is the Boy Who Lived having problems? 'Cuz you can just bugger off then."

Harry frowned, unable to continue being nice to Malfoy, "Like I would ask an arrogant git like _you_ for help."

Malfoy's eyes narrowed, "You _would_ know all about being arrogant."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean, Malfoy!" He hated the anger that rose inside him at that particular insult, after learning about his father's behavior during his fifth years at Hogwarts, Harry had never quite been able to shake the thought that he was maybe a bit _too_ like his father.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Potty, did I hurt your feelings?" Malfoy grinned, like a cat toying with a mouse.

"Shut-up, Malfoy!" Harry said, pulling out his wand, and pointing it straight at Malfoy's heart.

Malfoy jumped, then smirked, "C'mon, Potter, I dare you to do something." Harry could feel and hear his blood pounding, but he didn't move.

For a moment Harry wondered why Malfoy truly seemed to want him to do something, then he realized that they were right outside the front entrance, and there was bound to be someone who would see. Harry decided to drop it, and was about to just walk away, when he heard Malfoy mutter, "Coward."

In a moment, without being aware of what he was doing, Harry had grabbed Malfoy, and dragged him down the castle wall, and around the corner, and into the small crevice made by the large corner stone. Harry pushed Malfoy against the wall, one hand on his chest, and the other poised in the air, ready to punch Malfoy. "Say that again, Malfoy, just say it again." Harry was surprised to find that Malfoy looked… scared. Harry paused for a moment, not wanting to hit someone while they were, for all intents and purposes, down.

Something must have snapped in him when he paused, though; because suddenly the hand that was pushing Malfoy against the wall, grabbed his shirt and pulled his torso to Harry, and the other hand, rather than punch his face, reached behind his head, and pulled it to Harry until their lips crushed violently together.

Harry was mostly unaware of what he was doing, but some part of him knew that he was kissing Draco Malfoy… and Draco Malfoy was kissing him back- enthusiastically too. Draco had wrapped his arms around Harry, pausing only to move Harry's hand out of the way to allow Draco to push himself closer. Draco plastered himself against Harry, and pushed his tongue into Harry's mouth- which seemed to snap Harry awake.

He pushed Malfoy away, and wiped his mouth with his sleeve, as if he was trying to wipe away something completely loathsome. Their eyes met, and they both turned away, flushing with anger, embarrassment, and confusion.

Finally Malfoy spoke, well, yelled, "What the bloody hell did you do that for!"

"I-well, er… that is..,"

"Don't you even fecking know, you-argh!" Malfoy made a strange cry, half-groan, half-sigh, half-battle-cry.

"Hey, you kissed me back!"

"You kissed _me_ first!"

"Yea, but- why'd you respond?"

"I asked first."

Harry scowled, but "I don't know- shut-up, Malfoy and let me fecking speak-" because Malfoy had opened his mouth to retort, "I just sort of… did."

"That's not a good enough answer!" Malfoy took a step forward as if to hit Harry, then grunted and spun back around, commencing a frantic pacing.

"It doesn't matter, though, because we're not going to tell anyone… are we?" Malfoy looked at Harry as if he were a particularly nasty and smelly flobberworm. "What- you _want_ to tell someone?"

"So I could be added to the list of Harry Potter's lovers?" Harry was speechless, 'list? There was a list?' "I suppose we can't really count that prat Parvati, so we'll start with that tart Cho Chang, and then there was Lavender, Loony Lovegood," Malfoy chuckled at that, "And then, for some real drama, Padma. Each of those lasted for, what, two months, tops? And, of course, there's a long line of Ravenclaws who you picked up and dropped so quickly there's no point in mentioning them." Malfoy paused, apparently thinking, "Sorry, there were some Hufflepuffs in there too. Funny, though, it seems you've mostly avoided your own house- and Slytherin, of course." Harry could only gape at him, he hadn't realized there were so many, but now that he thought about it, he had been flitting from girl to girl in rapid-succession. Why had no one told him? "Aw, what's the matter? Realizing that your secret exploits aren't so secret?"

"I-I- I don- how do you know about this?" Harry's brain worked furiously for some sort of advantage. "And why, exactly, are you keeping such close tabs on my love life, Malfoy?"

"It's not me, Potter, everyone keeps tabs on the famous Harry Potter's social calendar. You think people don't watch you?" Malfoy chuckled, obviously at Harry's confusion. "It helps that almost every girl runs around bragging, or her friends do, or one of your past interests bitches loudly about it, to anyone who stands near her for more than five seconds."

Harry was still speechless, for whatever reason the fact that he had been dating any girl that moved had escaped him. He sighed deeply, lost in thought, practically forgetting that Malfoy was there.

"No matter how hard you think, Potter, you'll never find a proper comeback." Malfoy was back to his cocky self now. His arms crossed, head tilted up, looking down his nose at Harry.

"I wasn't trying to come up with a comeback, Malfoy. I was just-" Malfoy's eyes widened slightly at the look Potter shot him; it was almost pleading, almost as if Potter were asking for his help. "Never mind."

Malfoy scoffed, "For all your goody-two-shoes bullshit, Potter, your morals are obviously looser than mine. At least I stick with one girl." Privately, though, Malfoy wondered if staying with _that_ one girl was really what he wanted. "You go around breaking girl's hearts, as if they were nothing… although, to be fair, at this point all they're expecting is a good time."

"I- I never meant to hurt anyone."

Malfoy couldn't help it, he laughed at this, although at the look Potter gave him he felt a strange pang of regret- not something he was used to. "No, of course not." Malfoy said with a mocking tone, although some small part of him actually meant it.

Malfoy watched with scorn as Harry walked past him and sat down, leaning against the wall, his head between his knees. Malfoy was still in his Quidditch uniform, and he just wanted to take a shower, not sit here for Potter's pity party…. And yet he didn't move. He just looked at Harry, hunched over, his all-over-the-place black hair hanging into his face, Potter seemed to have lost his robe at some point, leaving him in just the uniform; Malfoy could just see the line of toned muscle through the uniform. 'Potter's actually quite attractive.'

Malfoy mentally slapped himself for that thought; it wasn't that Harry was a boy that bothered him (he had known he was bi for a little more than a year); it was that it was _Harry Potter_ that caused that thought. 'Potter is your sworn enemy, even if he is hott- argh! Potter is your sworn enemy, enemy, UGLY enemy'. Malfoy recited to himself over and over and over again, now mostly unaware of said "ugly enemy" at his feet.

Harry was completely oblivious to Malfoy's mental tortures, being wrapped up in his own. He was, of course, angry with himself, but he was also angry with Ron and Hermione for not telling him he had been such a slimy git. He hated that he had to be told by Draco Malfoy, of all people. His biggest rival, well, his biggest rival at Hogwarts. The main problem was what he was going to do now. He didn't want to have to _thank_ Malfoy for telling him, but at the same time, he felt he owed Malfoy an apology. 'I'm not going to get anything accomplished by just sitting here on the ground.'

Harry stood, and found that Malfoy was closer than he had expected, and they were now standing toe to toe, "hey! What's the big idea, Potter?" Malfoy asked, pushing Harry backwards; Harry lost his balance, and, to save himself, he grabbed unto Malfoy's shirt, unfortunately this sent them both toppling over into a tangle of limbs on the grass- Harry hit his head on the wall in the process.

"Ouch! Get off me Malfoy!" Harry said, trying to push Malfoy off of him, as Malfoy was currently pinning him to the ground.

"Actually, I think I'm quite comfortable here."

"I said, get of-mmph!" The last part of Harry's command was cut off by Malfoy not only _not _getting off, but leaning down and kissing Harry.

"Hmm, I don't know what the big deal is, you're not even a good kisser." Malfoy said as he stood, and dusted himself off; leaving a shocked Harry lying on the ground staring at him open-mouthed. "See ya' around, Potter." Malfoy said, blowing a kiss at him, laughing and heading around the corner, and into the castle.

I can't believe I made Malfoy the one who already knows he isn't on the straight and narrow path… it's **always** Malfoy. Well, whatever, I shall continue to follow the cliché I suppose.

Also, I feel like, for some reason, I'm putting a bit of Pietro M. into Malfoy; if any of you other X-Men/HP geeks out there can tell me if I am, or if I'm just being paranoid, that would be awesome.

Please review, it totally makes my day!


	2. Skiving Off

**Disclaimer:** same as last chapter

**Music:** Dido- Life for Rent and FireLass's Girly Mix

Oh, um, in my Hogwarts all the seventh years have private rooms, because that's only fair! (so says the senior)

This story has a lot of fade-to-black, if this makes you sad, you can go somewhere else, you won't find any graphic sex (or really anything) scenes here, ya'll have healthy imaginations, if you really wanna' know, you will.

**Chapter 2:**

**Part I:**

Harry stormed into the common room, or he tried to, but it's hard to be angry when everyone cheers as you enter a room. "Nice catch, Harry", "Right in front of that bugger Malfoy's face!" and "Right on."

It was almost an hour before Harry was finally able to reach his room. He stumbled into the room, and threw himself onto his bed. "What the hell, Potter?" Harry chided himself, pulling his hands through his perpetually unruly hair.

He groaned at the knock on the door, "Harry? You okay, mate?"

"No."

"Uh… can I come in?"

"Sure." Harry said, although he rolled onto his side, his back to the door, and consequentially, Ron.

"What's up?"

"Nothing."

"Oh." Ron walked over to Harry's bed, and leaned his back against one of the end posts. "Hermione was pretty worried."

"Sorry."

"I'm sure she'll be fine. But expect an interrogation tomorrow."

Harry groaned, dreading it; and trying to think of a reasonable excuse for not talking to anyone. "I'm just not feeling well."

"That it?"

"Yes, that's it!" Harry's voice was fiercer than he had intended, but he wasn't in the mood to apologize to anyone, not even his best friend; especially when he had just found out that his best friend had neglected to tell him he was being an arse-faced weasel.

"Okay." Ron said, defensively. He sighed, and then started walking to the door, "'Night, Harry. Hope you feel better."

Harry didn't respond, he just waited for the soft 'click' of the door, and then rolled off the bed and walked to the window. He leaned on the sill, staring down at the Whomping Willow (which he always seemed to have a view of). "Fuck 'em." Harry said to no one, "It was just a freak accident. I'm sure it could happen to anyone…. Yea! That's it. It could've happened to anyone."

Harry changed into his pjs and crawled into bed, unfortunately his last thought just before he drifted into the world of dreams was, "But it didn't happen to anyone, it happened to me."

**Part II:**

"Mornin'"

"Harry, Ron said you were sick last night, are you feeling better?"

Harry heard her, but didn't want to answer, instead he pretended he hadn't heard her, and was busy with spreading some jam on his toast.

"Harry." Hermione said sharply, and Harry reluctantly looked up at her, "I asked you if you're feeling better."

"Better than what."

"Last night you said you weren't feeling well." Ron put in, looking confused.

"Oh, right. Yea, I'm feeling better." Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw Ron and Hermione give each other a significant glance. "I'm fine, okay!"

Hermione and Ron both looked at him questioningly, but seemed to decide that Harry was just in one of his bad moods. Harry's bad moods were something that they had (reluctantly) learned to deal with.

Harry spent most of that day pretending to be completely absorbed in classes to fend off Ron and Hermione. Although Ron and Hermione were used to Harry's frustrating mood swings, they still could not completely qualm their desire to question Harry.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Hermione asked during lunch.

"No, I'm not okay!" Harry said, throwing his fork into his uneaten lunch and storming out of the Great Hall without another word. Harry didn't notice the figure that left shortly after him.

**Part III:**

Harry felt something grab his collar and pull him into a small storage room. The door was closed and locked behind him; fearing the worst, Harry drew his wand.

"Calm down, Potter."

"Oh. It's you."

"You haven't told anyone about yesterday have you?"

Harry was shocked- Malfoy had brought him here for _this_! "Malfoy, if you think I've told someone than you're stupider than you look."

"That's not a very nice thing to say, Potter."

"I'm sorry if talking to you doesn't give me warm fuzzies all over."

"Are you sure about that, Potter?" Malfoy said, placing his hands lightly on Harry's shoulders, and whispering delicately into his ear.

Harry gasped and pushed Malfoy back. "What hell do you think you're doing!"

"Same thing you want to." Said Malfoy just before he grabbed Harry, pulled him closer and kissed him. Harry lost all control, he felt like his brain was numb, but it wasn't something he wanted to stop….

**Part IV:**

Harry didn't end up making it to his afternoon classes, and was a little late to dinner.

He sat down heavily and started putting heaping portions that rivaled Ron's onto his plate. As soon as he put away the last serving spoon, he dug in.

"Feeling better, then." Hermione said, without a trace of concern in her voice.

"Obviously." Ron said, anger in his tone.

"Why weren't you in classes this afternoon, Harry?"

Harry froze, swallowing his mouthful of food quickly. "Uh…"

"That's not an answer, Harry. And, considering the way you stormed out at lunch, I think we deserve a real answer."

Somehow, Harry thought that Hermione wouldn't actually want _this_ real answer. "Sorry I was just… you know, I, um…"

Hermione and Ron groaned and spoke in unison, "who was it?"

"What?"

"You know, who was it?" Hermione said in an exasperated tone.

"It wasn't anyone."

"It never is." Hermione said, Harry noticed that Ron was concentrating awfully hard on his potatoes, obviously not wanting to get involved.

"What's that supposed to mean!" Harry growled, although he knew very well what it was supposed to mean, _and_ that he deserved everything and anything Hermione was saying.

"You know, Harry, I haven't said anything about the way you've been acting because it never seemed to affect you negatively, but I can't just let you skive off classes. You-" Hermione stopped, and with narrowed eyes looked around her; Harry followed her gaze and saw that their conversation was anything but private, especially as some second year girls were intent on listening in. "We'll finish this later." In a lower voice, meant to not be heard by Harry, "thanks for your help, Ronald."

**Part V:**

After dinner our favorite trio was to be found in a side corridor, with one looking battle-ready, another looking reluctant, and the last looking like an angry parent. "Okay, Harry, who was it? Because, whoever it was, it better be someone who's worth missing classes." Harry knew perfectly well that Malfoy was not worth missing classes for… however, the satisfaction Malfoy gave him was. Not that Harry could tell Ron and Hermione either of these things, especially when Hermione had turned red with anger.

Suddenly Harry remembered why_ he_ had been angry in the first place, "You know, Hermione, maybe you could have said something before I missed classes."

"What!" Hermione's eyes blazed, "_I_ should have said something to _you_ to prevent you from missing classes? Harry, what do you think I am- your _mother_!" Hermione gasped, and covered her mouth, realizing that perhaps she hadn't said the wisest thing.

"No." Harry said, ignoring the slight pang in his heart that came from that comment. "But you two," here he looked pointedly at Ron, who looked sheepishly at him, "_Are_ my best friends. And you should have told me I was being a prat, instead of going on as if nothing was wrong."

"What?" Ron's vocal entrance was, needless to say, less than ground-breaking.

"Harry… are you saying that you didn't realize that… that, uh…" Hermione was something she almost never was, at a loss for words.

"No, I didn't realize I was in the pants of every half-eligible girl in the whole school. It would have been nice if you two had something about it."

"But, Harry… I mean, how could you _not_ know? I don't understand that."

"I wouldn't expect you to." Harry said coldly, sliding down onto the floor, and leaning his head against the wall. "But it's the truth."

"Sorry, mate, but that really seems off."

"I agree. But I didn't know, I was just so busy trying to forget, that I just didn't notice." Harry didn't say what he was trying to forget, just hoped they would know without him having to say it.

"Harry," Hermione's voice was full of emotion, and she sat down on his left, Ron quickly plopping himself on Harry's left. "You could have talked to us instead of turning to, well… you know…"

"Sex?" Harry said flatly, mostly just because he knew it would make Hermione uncomfortable and he was feeling vengeful. Harry smiled slightly at the fact that his companions appeared to have nothing to say to that statement.

The three of them sat in silence for a few minutes, Hermione and Ron both struggling to think of something to say; and Harry gloating because he had actually made _Hermione Granger_ shut-up.

"Harry, I'm sorry about everything that's happened to you, but that's no excuse for just ignoring everything and… turning to- _sex_ to solve your problems." The last part of this sentence had a distinct 'haha, I showed you, I said it!' tone to it.

"I didn't realize I was."

"Harry, er, is that possible?" Ron ventured timidly.

"Obviously it is. Look, if it makes you two feel any better, I'm pretty sure I'm just gonna' be sticking with one person…" Harry inwardly flinched slightly, knowing that the words were true, even if he resented it.

"The same person who made you miss classes today, I hope."

"It was my choice, not-" Harry realized he was about to say 'his' and stopped dead. The information that their good friend, Harry Boy-Who-Lived James Potter was at the very least bi, was not a good thing to reveal right now.

"Whose?" Hermione and Ron said in unison.

"You don't know them." Harry said, realizing that that was almost impossible, but hoping that they might buy it.

Unfortunately Hermione had been at the top of the class since 1st year for a reason, "that's highly unlikely, Harry."

"Well, maybe I want to keep my love life private." Ron snorted, and Hermione suppressed a giggle, "starting now, then." He said, smiling a bit in spite of himself. "You'll know when I'm good and ready to tell you, okay?"

"Fine." Hermione said, reluctantly.

"Sure, mate." Ron replied, genially.

"Wanna' head up to the common room then? I still haven't finished Snape's essay and it's due tomorrow."

"Harry! Honestly, when will you learn, if you just did your homework the night it was assigned then you wouldn't have these problems! Honestly!"

Hermione continued to ramble all the way to the common room, but both her companions ignored her completely.

**Author's Notes:**

Thank you soooo much to everyone who reviewed! It makes me so happy! I hope you liked this chapter.

Usually I don't update every day, but I had already mostly finished this one, and finished it just now (obviously), so I figured I might as well put it up.


	3. Coming Clean

**Disclaimer:** …. Duh.

**Music:** Nâdiya:­ 16/9 ('specially: Hey! Laisse Tomber)

Hey, hey, who wants to know how Ron and Hermione _really_ feel? It better be everyone who's reading this…. Not that it matters whether you want to know, because I'm writing it anyway 0-)

And, Harry and Draco have an actual conversation, gasp, what is the world coming to! Can't they just keep it simple and snog (among other things) each other's brains out?… no, apparently not. Damn me and my semi-plotlines

Also, I have quite a few author's notes, mainly because I feel the need to share my opinion… a lot.

**Chapter 3:**

**Part I:**

The tension that had been lingering between Harry, Ron and Hermione for almost two years disappeared much sooner than it had appeared. Harry reveled in the ease of their relationship. Studying, or even just sitting quietly together in the common room was a pleasure that Harry had rarely enjoyed in the past two years; and he decided that it was something he wanted to keep doing as often as he possibly could.

Hermione and Ron were glad that Harry was _finally_ acting normally, but they were also extremely curious as to who this mysterious lady was. "D'ya s'pose that it's a Gryffindor?"

"No, we'd know." Hermione said with certainty. They were in the library, working at one of the tables, sitting facing each other. Harry was supposed to be there too, but neither Ron nor Hermione had seen Harry since breakfast that morning (A/N: but it's Saturday, so no worries…. And we all know what he's doing, yes? Good.).

"Are you sure?"

"_Yes_, Ron, I'm sure. Now, back to Care of Magical Creatures." Hermione was beginning to get annoyed.

"Yea, yea, yea." Ron said in an, 'I couldn't care less' voice.

"You'll never be ready for N.E.W.Ts unless you study. The Demiguise may be on the test, so it's important that we study it _now_."

"I know, Hermione, I know."

Less than ten minutes later, "Hermione, you must have some _clue_ about who it is! I mean, don't you know everything?"

"I don't know this." Hermione said, in a distracted tone, as she took notes from her '**Monster Book of Monsters'**.

"Have you asked anyone, then?" Ron looked hopeful.

"Well, I put the word out that Harry was taken, on a long-term basis." Hermione chuckled a little, getting a suspicious glare from Madam Pince. Hermione lowered her head, and her voice, as did Ron. "Practically the entire female population of Hogwarts has been trying to find out all week who the mystery girl is, but no one knows. Whoever it is, isn't talking. No one's been able to catch Harry and whoever, er, at it, either..." Ron was gaping at her, "what?" She said, wondering if she had something wrong, or if she had something on her face.

"You have a network!"

"Excuse me?" Hermione said, very confused.

"You could find out practically anything about anyone!"

"Well… yes." Hermione said, wondering where Ron was going with that particular train of thought. Hermione herself never paid much attention to the gossip going around school, but was aware that every house had _at least_ one girl who knew _everything_ that was going on… except, apparently who Harry was shagging- something those girls hadn't not known for… well, they never didn't know. As soon as Harry Fuckin' Potter kissed Cho underneath the mistletoe these butterflies (as in, 'social butterfly') knew.

"Blimey!" At another glare and an, 'ahem' from Madam Pince, Ron lowered his voice more. "That's… well, slightly creepy actually. But useful, bloody useful."

"Except this time."

"Oh… right."

"Mmm." Said Hermione, turning another page, and scribbling a few more notes onto her parchment. Ron sighed, and returned to his notes, albeit halfheartedly.

Almost an hour later, in the Gryffindor common room, Hermione and Ron were to be found practicing turning their Transfiguration textbooks into chickens. Hermione had been successfully turning _her_ books into chickens after her third attempt, and was now changing the color, and size of her chickens. Ron on the other hand, was attempting to turn his book into a chicken for the second time… on what seemed like the hundredth attempt, he got a feather-covered book with a beak, wings and legs.

"I can't do this, Hermione!" Ron said in an exhausted tone, and fell into the nearest chair, which was actually a couch.

"Of course you can, Ron." Said Hermione encouragingly, "you just need to concentrate."

"I can't concentrate anymore, let's take a break. Besides," Ron checked his watch. "I have Quidditch practice in a little while."

Hermione smiled slightly, "Ron, you have Quidditch practice in almost two hours."

"That's a little while." Hermione looked at him skeptically, "on a cosmic level." Ron said cheekily.

Hermione laughed, "Alright then, we'll take a break." She changed Ron's chiook(?) back into a book, and sat down next to Ron.

They sat in silence for a few seconds before Ron said, "Why won't Harry tell us who it is!"

"Maybe, Ron, he wants to have _some_ part of his life private for once."

"He's never kept anything from us before."

"That's not true, Ron, and you know it."

"Okay, he's never not told us about stuff like _this_."

"Fair enough." Hermione's tone was uninterested.

"Hermione, you _must_ want to know who this girl is!"

"Of course I do, Ron! But I know that we'll never know unless we just back off and let Harry come to us in his own time." Ron made a sound that indicated he definitely was _not_ happy with the situation.

"This is stupid." He said in a final tone. Hermione shrugged, but made no response. "Hermione, how come Harry gets to have all the fun?"

"Huh?" Hermione raised her eyebrows, she was pretty sure she knew what Ron was saying, but also hoping he wasn't.

"You know, how come we aren't dating anyone?"

"Because, well…. Uh. Oh, I don't know, Ron." Although, Hermione did know the answer, she had known it for a long time. Too bad that she wasn't used to this sort of situation. When she had been dating Viktor he had always taken the lead. But, Ron…well, Ron wasn't like the (in)famous Seeker.

"Hmph." Ron said, frustrated with himself.

Luckily, Hermione summoned up her Gryffindor bravery, and the intelligence that almost put her in Ravenclaw. "Maybe because we're only interested in one person, and we're afraid of trying to take a chance with that person. Even if we know that being with that person would be the best thing ever to happen to us."

"Er…. Maybe, yea." Ron shifted uncomfortably, looked out the window for a moment, and then gulped. "Uh, Hermione, I… well, that is… er."

Hermione laughed, relaxing slightly, "You're such a git, Ron." She said, before leaning over, and kissing him gently, aided by the fact that Ron turned his head obligingly.

"Uh…." Said Ron.

"Yea." Said Hermione.

And, with typical bad timing, in walked Harry Potter. "Hi, guys, sorry I-" Harry noticed their identical slightly spaced out smiles, and stopped dead. "Is- is this a bad time?" He asked, extremely confused.

"No, of course not, Harry." Hermione said, snapping out of whatever trance she had been in. Ron, however, didn't say a thing.

"Riiight." Said Harry, sitting in a chair across from them. "I'm sorry I didn't make it to the library this morning, I uh…. Well, you know." He ran his hand through his hair, feeling very awkward indeed.

"Yea, we know."

Ron jumped up, as if he had just been hit with a cattle prod. "Who is it?"

Harry and Hermione stared at him, stunned. "Uh… look, Ron, I'd like to tell you, but I really just- can't." 'No,' thought Harry, 'I _really_ can't'

"Why not?" Hermione and Ron said in unison, blushing simultaneously. Harry didn't notice.

"I just- I don't think either of you would like it."

"Harry, if she makes you happy we'll like her."

"I don't know. I don't really..."

"Really what?" Ron said, confused.

"Like them. They're not very likeable."

"All this 'they' stuff is stupid, let's just call the mystery girl, er… Rosie."

Harry decided not to mention that they were off on the gender of Rosie. And suppressed a chuckle at anyone referring to Draco **Malfoy** as "Rosie". "Okay. Well, _Rosie_ isn't very likeable."

"Then why are you with her?"

"Oh, I dunno'." Harry ran his hands through his hair again, nervous. He knew very well why he was "with" Draco, although he wouldn't call it "with" so much as "fooling around with".

"Well, that's stupid." Ron said, sounding slightly incredulous.

"You know, Harry, I have to agree with Ron. It's nice that you've decided to stick with one person, but if you can't even have a conversation with Rosie, then why her?"

"Well… er, you know." Ron and Hermione gave him blank looks that plainly stated that they did not know. This may seem unbelievable, but we can forgive them because they were probably still a little mushy. "C'mon!" Harry was slightly frustrated, he didn't want to be interrogated on the subject of _why_ he was messing around with Draco, he just wanted to _do_ it, not have to _think_ about why.

"Oh." Hermione said, apparently Harry had finally sunk in. "Well, then, Harry, how is this different from all the other girls? You're just doing the same thing."

"No one made me feel like… Rosie." Harry said simply. It was true, too. Not that the truth of that statement was something Harry was happy about.

"Well then she's obviously special." Harry shrugged but didn't say a thing.

Ron was still looking confused, staring at Harry like one might stare at a particularly strange piece of modern art, as if trying to figure out what the hell it is. "I don't get it." He said finally, continuing with the modern art analogy.

"Oh, come off it, Ron." Harry said, burying his head in his hands, and hoping Hermione would come to his rescue.

"Honestly!" Although Hermione sounded annoyed, she was actually extremely amused at Ron's stupidity. "_Sex_, Ronald. S-e-x."

"Ooohhh. But then how's that different from all the other girls?" Harry groaned, and Hermione laughed. "What?" Ron looked from one to the other, lost…. Again. "What! What'd I say!"

**Part II:**

A week after that, in yet _another_ closet, Harry abruptly pushed Malfoy away. Causing the tousle-haired elitist to bump into a shelf of cleaning supplies, and possibly bruise one of his perfect shoulders. "Hey! What the hell was that for!" As soon as their lips weren't locked their enmity came into play again… although it was starting to get stupider, and less witty.

"This is too weird."

Malfoy narrowed his eyebrows, not sure whether to slug or kiss the scar-faced boy in front of him. "Never bothered you before, Pothead." Harry didn't respond, but turned away from Malfoy as if there was something interesting there to look at, this was futile as Harry found himself staring down at a doorknob. Oops.

Against his will Malfoy found himself _actually_ wondering what was wrong with Potter, "what!" He said, sounding aggravated, which he was slightly, poor boy thought he was going to get some, not get a bruise.

"I'm spending time with _Draco Malfoy_ not only _not_ to kill him, but to… snog him." Harry liked to edit his vocabulary, particularly on this subject.

"So? It's a damn good time." Malfoy's tone was now surprisingly earnest.

"That's not the point!" Harry turned to face Malfoy again, pulling his hands through his hair like he always did when he was nervous; although he rarely thought about the fact that he was mirroring one of his father's _vain_ actions exactly.

Malfoy was surprised by the anger in Harry's voice, not that he should be. He had heard anger in Harry's voice for the past seven years, it shouldn't take him off guard now… so why was it? "Why not?" He finally asked stupidly.

"Because, I- I- I never felt this good being with a girl, and that's…. and it's _you_ on top of it and, just- ARGH!" Harry said, flinging himself dramatically to the floor. He hadn't meant to confess why he was angry, but it had to come out sometime. And since he couldn't tell his friends that he was bi, Malfoy was the only person he could talk to- even if Malfoy was the last person in the world he would confide in if he had a choice… maybe second to last, after Voldemort.

"Ah, questioning your manliness, are you?" Malfoy said reluctantly, sitting down, and leaning against the shelf, looking at the pathetic form of the supposed savior of the wizard world, and being moved to a very rarely felt emotion: sympathy. "Look, Potter. I may not like you, but I do know that you're not a freak… well, no. That's not true, you _are_ a freak, but not because you snog boys. You're a freak because you have a huge scar on your face, and you've somehow managed to escape death over and over again your entire fucking life. And, also you're ugly." Malfoy finished, trying to regain some of his pompous outer shell- which was hard considering he had just attempted comforting his worst enemy.

Harry looked up at him with a crooked smile, "thanks, Malfoy." Then he blinked, and cocked his head to the side, "never thought I'd say that."

"Me neither. Now, can we go back to where we were?" Malfoy asked, trying to crawl sexily towards Harry's end of the closet, which he didn't really succeed at, but no matter, because he's gorgeous, and Harry can't resist him.

"Sure." Harry said, grinning, and pulled Malfoy to him in order to resume their (increasingly longer lasting) foreplay.

**Part III:**

Harry walked into the common room that afternoon (for a study session with his two best mates) in a very good mood. He wasn't quite sure why he felt so happy, but he couldn't remember feeling this good in a very, _very_ long time- although he was trying to keep the reasons for that out of his thoughts.

Harry was fully ready to write his Transfigurations and Astronomy essays (with help from Hermione of course) but stopped dead at the sight of Ron and Hermione sitting next to each other on the couch giving each other soft kisses. "Uh…." Harry said, although he had meant to turn around and leave them alone (which is what he would want in their situation), but the noise had slipped unbidden from his mouth.

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione said, jumping and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

Ron looked at him with a very stupid grin on his face, "oh, hello, Harry." He said, and then seemed to register that Harry must have just seen him and Hermione kissing, "oh, Harry!"

"Uh, sorry we didn't tell you, it just sorta', er…. Happened."

"No, I don't care, I'm glad." Harry said, his grin returning, and sitting on the nearest chair. "It's about time you two stopped being so stupid."

"Now, hang on a minute, Harry. We weren't being stupid we were just, uh… tell him, Hermione."

"Well, we were… okay, we were being stupid." She said, with an obliging smile at Harry. Ron frowned slightly at Hermione, he had hoped she would come with some brilliant answer that didn't involve either of them being stupid, oblivious, self-denying gits… unfortunately she didn't. Ron _did_ realize that she couldn't come up with an answer like that because there _wasn't_ one- he just didn't like it.

Harry laughed, and leaned back into the chair, feeling like his life was finally falling into place. He felt content, at ease, relaxed… but God loves irony.

-

Oooo, cliff-hanger! And you'll probably have to wait another week for the next chapter. School has started and it takes me a few days to write chapters when I have nothing to do. And now I have homework as well. Rgh.

Mucho amor to FireLass for her awesome suggestions, and for taking time out of her (probably more) homework-logged life to edit my mistakes


	4. Moving out of Closets

**Music:** 'good bad music' mix (including: Toxic (Spear Britney), Ashlee Simpson, stuff off of Pink's 1st cd)

I would just like to say that although it's a butt load of work if anyone ever has the opportunity to take a Constitutional Law class (preferably from a good teacher): do it. Con Law makes me wish that I wanted to be a lawyer… but I don't. Damn. Anyway, freakishly interesting stuff you guys. Oh, and Justice Scalia can just die!… but NO he has to be one of the ones that isn't ready to kick it. I hate you, Scalia, I hate you.

I love that I'm saying that as a personal message, when Mr. Justice Scalia will _never_ read this. I still say he should shove it, though, grrr.

Teehee, Ronniekins makes an interesting discovery, am I evil, or what? >-∫

-

**Part I:**

Ron squirmed uncomfortably in his seat as Hufflepuff scored against Ravenclaw- not actually a reaction to the goal, because he had been doing this for the past 10 minutes, a fact that was starting to annoy Hermione. "Ron." She said through gritted teeth, "Sit. Still."

"I'll be right back."

"Where are? Never mind, then." Hermione said, as Ron had run off in record time. Lavender had watched Ron run off at super-speed, and gave Hermione a "What the hell is up with him?" look, to which Hermione responded with a "'Dunno, but isn't he adorable?" shrug and smile. Lavender responded by rolling her eyes, and returning her attention to the game, as a bludger knocked the Hufflepuff in possession of the quaffle off her broom.

Ron had decided that if he didn't answer nature's call soon he was going to spontaneously combust, and that was _not_ on his agenda for the day, so he decided to just pop into the Gryffindor locker room for a second, and then return to the game.

Unfortunately the sight that greeted him in the locker room was _also_ not on his agenda for the day… in fact, it was the last thing that Ronald Weasley would want or expect to see: his best friend engaged in some serious full-frontal snogging with none other than their hated rival, Draco Malfoy.

For a moment Ron stood just inside the room, with freakishly widened eyes, and a jaw that appeared to be unhinged. He was saying something completely indecipherable, sort of like: "agahhh, duh, blub blub, bloa?"

He must've said it semi-loudly because both Harry and Draco became aware that they had a visitor and immediately, pushed each other violently away, causing Harry to slam into the wall, and Draco to hit some lockers.

As soon as Harry saw who it was who had interrupted the two, he went chalk white- possibly even whiter than Ron. "Uh, hey, Ron…." Harry knew he should say more, but really couldn't find anything else to say, because, well- what the hell are you _supposed_ to say in a situation like that?

Unfortunately Harry's voice had the effect of snapping Ron out of his trance, and into **_angry_** mode, "What the bloody hell was that?"

"I can explain. See, what happened was, uh- Malfoy tripped, and, uh… oh, fuck." Harry looked around to Malfoy for help, but Malfoy had (predictably) disappeared.

"I hope not." Ron said coldly.

"Ron, I'm sorry, I-"

"Felt it would be okay to start fooling around with a _Malfoy_! Don't you remember all the shit he's said about my family? About my Mum and Dad, and you thought I'd be okay with- with- that!" Ron gestured violently to where Harry and Draco _had_ been.

"No, that's why I didn't tell you."

"Didn't tell…? How long have you been going at it!"

"Since after the last Quidditch game." Ron appeared to have been struck dumb, so Harry continued, quietly, timidly, in the "I didn't mean to break the window, Mommy" voice. "I was going to tell you, but I was afraid that you'd react like, well, the way you are."

"You were right." Harry nodded mutely, and silence fell for a few moments. Harry's brain was frantically working up a reasonable defense for himself, and Ron's poor brain was trying not to explode.

Finally, Ron managed, in a tone harsher than he had intended, "so you're _gay_!"

"I dunno'." Harry shrugged, and leaned against the wall, wincing slightly as he appeared to have bruised from flying into it earlier. "Kinda'."

"That makes abso-bloody-lutely no sense."

"Figure it out, then." Harry was feeling slightly injured by the tone in Ron's voice.

"Fuck you, Harry- or- ARGH!" Ron yelled, having realized what he just said. Harry didn't say anything, only stared at him defiantly. "Why _Malfoy_! Of everyone in this school, you have to pick _Draco Malfoy_." Ron yelled all this at Harry, causing Harry to cringe, and turn his head away from the verbal attacks. "You're such a- a- argh! I'll bet you think that just because you're Harry Bloody Potter I'll just forgive you- well, fuck you, Harry!" Ron's face was completely red, making him look like a very angry tomato. "Hey, well you're sitting there, why don't you help me pull this KNIFE out of my back, huh?"

"Et' tu, Brutus?" Harry muttered under his breath. Ron, however, didn't hear him, just continued his tirade. Harry stopped paying attention, just picking up bits here and there, wondering what he was gonna' say whenever Ron calmed down.

Meanwhile, Hermione was beginning to be worried (because that's what she does) because Ron had been gone for almost 10 minutes. Hermione had had time to figure out that Ron had probably gone down to the locker room to use the loo- but it doesn't usually take people ten minutes to pee. Hermione decided she'd make sure Ron hadn't flushed himself down the toilet, or something equally stupid. So, she got out of her seat and headed down to the locker rooms.

When Hermione arrived she saw a dejected looking Harry being yelled at by an incomprehensible Ron. When Harry spotted her he looked hopeful for a moment, and then as Ron turned to her, presumably in an attempt to explain something, his face fell again. Hermione looked quizzically at Ron, who was completely red, and screaming- what he was screaming Hermione couldn't tell; but it must've been important because he was saying it very quickly, and at an _extremely_ high decibel.

"Ron! Ronald!" Hermione yelled, trying to get him to shut up, but he wouldn't, so, frustrated and confused, she pulled out her wand, pointed it at Ron and: "_Silencio!"_ Ron's mouth continued to move, but no sound came out. He realized what she had done, and proceeded to glare at her menacingly, and periodically gesticulate wildly at Harry.

Hermione ignored him, and turned her attention to Harry, who had sunk to the floor. "Harry," she said softly, "what happened?"

"Ron knows who Rosie is."

"And who _is_ Rosie, Harry?" Hermione was very curious as to who could make Ron so mad, but she still kept her voice calm, seeing that Harry was deeply troubled.

Harry just shook his head, and stared at his hands, so Hermione was forced to remove the silencing charm. "Ron, who is it?"

"Malfoy." Ron spat, "Draco Malfoy."

-

I seem to have short-chapter syndrome, sorry… uh, deal with it, though, b/c I like ending it there, next chapter will be longer, though, I promise!

- runs around singing (at random) and dancing- "a guy like you should wear a waarniin, s'dangerous, I'm fallin'- if you wan' my auto-wan' my autobiography, baby- dontcha' know that you're- can't touch this- say you wan' me back, but you never do- Stacy, Madonna, way before Nirvana, there was- if you want my body, and you think I'm sexy- said "are you gonna' be my girl?"- …" etc, etc, etc -

at least no one can say I'm normal-P

Review Responses:

PietrolovesAqua: I really didn't intend offense (to some people yes, you, no). But I like to give an honest review—thank for you giving me one too . And I'm sending you jealousy vibes ('bout DVD)

Satern Mya: thank you, I wish I could've done it sooner, but I'm swamped with school, and applications

FireLass: you are my editing queen, and I bow down at your throne- I am not worthy (don't you dare give a Brandonesque(<- now a word) response, though, I'll whoop you). Hehe, so many You-Know-Whos, you think maybe they'll all just finish each other off? Perhaps? Become new obsessions for each other? Maybe?

wwwendy: bi it is! Maybe he's never had a snog/shag/etc as good as Draco's >-), gimme' time, man, gimme' time. It's coming, they have to be comfortable with spending time with each other before they can admit anything more than hate-filled passion for each other… I'm a different breed of Harry/Draco shipper than most, but it's coming

lozzie: yea he is! Although I envision Draco being hotter than Tom Felton, the attractive factor cannot be denied, too bad he has to have über-blonde hair, though, b/c he would be much more attractive with dark hair.

I think in the books he's straight, but in fanfiction I can bend him to my will, MUAHAHAHAHA! ahem I mean, make him realize his "true" identity, heh.

ozumas girl: naw, everything can't be had- I got better about ANs this time, I was just feeling really, uh… talkative? ADD? Take your pic

Again, didn't have a chance to put this up till now, sowwy

Deathangelofdarkness: hehe, thanks, um…. It was cosmically soon?


	5. Broken Doorknobs

**Music:** 'The Empire Strikes First': Bad Religion (spec: Atheist Peace)

-

**Part I:**

You could have heard a pin drop in the silence that filled the room after Ron's statement. The only sound was the deafened roar of the crowd, and Harry's harsh breathing.

Hermione blinked, she looked at the anger in Ron's eyes, and then she looked at Harry. Rather, she looked at the crumpled form of her beloved friend, and managed to find his desperate eyes underneath the mangle of black hair.

"Draco Malfoy?" She breathed, unsure of what to say. Ron nodded vehemently, looking (finally) beyond words. "Uh…" Hermione was, of course, angry. She felt terribly betrayed by Harry. How could she not? Draco had always done his best to make Hermione feel less than human- like rubbish.

But then, Harry's quietly pleading, begging eyes asked her to feel otherwise. "I… Ron, it's- it's okay." She looked pleadingly into Ron's eyes, asking him to overcome his shock, and his rage. On the floor, Harry breathed a sigh of relief, the smallest smile appearing on his face. "Ron, please?"

"Please what, Hermione?" Hermione cocked her head, feeling tears spring to her eyes, she had never heard that tone in Ron's voice, at least not when he was talking to her…

"Ron?"

"I knew you'd take his side."

"His side? I- Ron, what side? I don't know what you're saying."

"Don't play dumb, Hermione. You know what I mean." Hermione shook her head, Ron practically growled. "Aren't you angry, Hermione! He betrayed us! All the shit Malfoy's done to us, and he goes and starts buggering around with 'em! That's not bloody right, and you know it!"

"Ron, Harry didn't mean it as an attack against us! Sometimes things just happen!" Hermione's voice was desperate, and she was trying to hold back tears, but her heart was breaking.

"How could that "just happen", Hermione?" Ron glared down at Harry, who had returned to staring fixedly at his folded hands. "Tell us, Harry, did it "Just happen"?"

Harry looked up at him, frowning, "Yes, actually, Ron, it did."

"I don't believe you."

"Well, I don't give a fuck if you believe me or not, it's the bloody truth. If you don't believe me, then that's your problem." Harry's eyes flashed.

Silence fell again, distantly they could hear Dennis Creevy announce Hufflepuff's win. Harry and Ron were staring coldly at each other with a fury that had previously been reserved for Malfoy. Hermione looked from one to the other, torn, and struggling to hold back tears that kept trying to break through.

Then, suddenly Ron relaxed, "Okay."

Harry started, "What?"

"Fine. You want to bat for the opposition, fine." Harry and Hermione both stared at Ron like he had gone mad. "This is our last year here, I don't wanna' waste it by fighting with my two best mates. But-" he said, shaking a finger at Harry, "This doesn't mean I don't hate Malfoy, or that I'm not still bloody angry at you, you bastard." Ron smiled at Harry to take the edge off of his words.

"Oh, Ron!" Hermione said, charging at him, throwing her arms around his neck, and kissing him happily.

"Blech." Said Harry from his position on the floor, but he was grinning.

"Get up, Harry." Ron said, and offered his hand, Harry took it, and Ron hauled him up off the floor. "I'm still bloody mad at you, though." Smiling, though his voice was serious.

"Right, I know."

**Part II:**

"Oy, Malfoy!" Harry yelled, running to catch him.

"What is it, Potter?" Draco said coldly, turning to face him with a look of utter disdain on his face.

"I need to have a word with you." Harry said, coldly, but not matching Malfoy's tone.

"About _what_ exactly."

"Potions, actually. Professor Snape sent me to get you." Harry said, lying through his teeth, but knowing that Crabbe and Goyle would be too stupid to notice.

Draco sighed dramatically, "Alright." He turned to Crabbe and Goyle, "See you back in the common room." The two looked about to protest, but Draco turned away from them, and they shuffled off.

"Alright, Potter, found a new abandoned room, then, have you?" He said as he turned back to Harry, grinning lecherously.

"Actually, no. I wanted to _talk_ to you. Just. Talk. Can you comprehend that?"

Draco frowned, "I dunno', maybe I can, and maybe I can't. It all depends on what you want to talk about… and, of course, if the weasel is around."

"Don't call him that." Harry said coarsely.

"Oh, did I hurt your feelings, Potty?"

"I wouldn't worry about me if I were you, Malfoy." Harry said, glaring at Draco, and twirling his wand.

"Oh no! A threat!" Draco put his hand over his mouth in mock horror, and then laughed. "C'mon, Potter, stop fucking around. Let's just go, okay?" Draco grabbed Harry's collar, and started trying to pull him down the corridor, but Harry stayed planted where he was.

"I'm not joking around, Malfoy. I mean it. Leave Ron and Hermione alone."

Draco turned and looked at Harry curiously, noting the dangerous glint in his eyes, and decided that considering this boy had taken down You-Know-Who… repeatedly, Draco should just back down. Besides it wouldn't be too hard to ignore the mudblood and the weasel. Still, Draco had to keep up appearances, so he stepped back and crossed his arms, pretending to be thinking it over- ignoring Harry's impatient sigh. "… Okay, Potter. If you'll stop being such an arse, then I'll stop taking the mickey out of… Weasley and Granger."

Harry's eyes were still narrowed, but he nodded reluctantly. "Okay." Draco smiled, and again grabbed Harry, and proceeded to attempt to drag him down the hall. "I'm not done, Malfoy." Harry said, removing Draco's hand from his wrist.

"Argh!" Draco said, turning away in frustration, and banging his head on the wall in frustration. "What _now_!"

"I just wanted to thank you for sticking around Saturday night. It was a _big_ help."

Draco turned and looked at Harry as though he had lost his mind. "What the fuck are you on about, Potter!"

Just then, an authoritative voice yelled at them from down the hallway. "Potter, Malfoy what are you two up to?" Professor McGonagall swooped down on them, ready to stop the fight that was obviously about to break out.

"Nothing, Professor." Harry said innocently.

McGonagall raised her eyes, and turned to look at Draco. "He's telling the truth, Professor. We're _only_ talking." Draco said ironically, glancing briefly at Harry.

"Hmm. Alright, but see that it stays that way, or I'll be seeing both of you in detention." With that McGonagall walked away, and around the corner.

Harry and Draco both ran after her, and looked around the corner to see that she was actually gone. She was.

"You know what I'm talking about, Malfoy. You ran out of there so fast I'm surprised you didn't cause a tornado."

"You didn't expect me to stick around, did you!"

"Well, help would've been nice."

"Look, Potter, I'm not here to be _nice_." Draco was surprised at the pain that flickered across Harry's face as he said this. He felt an unfamiliar pang of regret, and endeavored to fix his blunder. "Besides, it only would've made Weasley madder." Harry's frown lessened, but he still looked unsure. "Would _you_ have stayed if you were me?"

Harry shook his head, smiling slightly. "No, I guess I wouldn't have."

"Done now?"

"Yes." Harry said, smiling.

"Can we go now?"

"Why not?" Harry said resignedly, and followed Draco up a flight of stairs, left down a familiar corridor, and into a large, mostly empty closet.

As soon as the door was closed and locked, Draco pounced on Harry. Who at first reacted enthusiastically, then half-heartedly, and then not really at all.

"Fuckin' help me get this off!" Draco yelled in frustration, attempting to yank Harry's shirt off, completely unsuccessfully.

"Nope, not in the mood." Harry said casually, sitting down, and leaning against the door.

Draco gaped at him. "Not in… the _mood_? Bloody hell." Draco buried his head in his hands, muttering incomprehensibly. Harry ignored him, examining his fingernails… even though there was hardly any light in the room. "Potter, what the hell kinda' spell do you have on you!"

"No spell. I just don't feel like having your tongue down my throat right now."

"Well, then how about-"

"Oh, sod off."

"Well, Nancy, if you're not in "the mood" then I'll just be going back to my dorm to wank off, thank you very much." Draco said, moving towards the door and finding it blocked by Harry. "Move, Potter."

"Nope."

"What the hell do you want with me!"

"I dunno'. Sit."

"No, I don't bloody want to sit. Now, move your fat arse, Potter!" Draco said, trying to push Harry out of the way. Harry didn't move an inch.

"I think I'll stay right here, actually."

Draco glared daggers at Harry, hoping his patented stare would be enough to budge our hero… it wasn't. Harry just laughed at him, which infuriated Draco more. "What the hell do you think you're doing!"

"I don't know, yet. But if you shut-up then maybe I can figure it out."

Draco looked at Harry as though he'd like nothing better than to kill him, but he only made indignant noises, then a gave frustrated sigh, and flopped down on the floor next to Harry. "Now what?"

"Uh… what's your favourite colour?"

"My favourite color? What're you getting at, Potter?"

"I dunno'. I guess it would be cool if we got to know each other." Harry said, shrugging, and not meeting Draco's eye.

Draco blinked, and stared blankly at Harry. If he was honest with himself, though, Draco knew that he was as curious about Harry as Harry was about himself. "Okay, Potter. But if you start crying, or turning into a simpering _pansy_ then I'll hex you, got it?"

Harry laughed, "got it. Now, what's your favourite colour?"

"I dunno'."

"That's not an answer, Malfoy."

"Uh… well, then green."

"That was predictable."

"Well I'm _sorry_ if my choice of colour doesn't_ please_ you, Potter."

"Has anyone ever told you that sarcasm is the lowest form of wit?"

Draco raised his eyebrows, "actually no, Antisthenes."

"Intestines?"

"No, dipshit, _Antisthenes_. The founder of the school of cynicism."

"Riiiight…"

"Lowest form of wit, Potter." Draco said in a sing-song voice.

Harry narrowed his eyes at Draco, "what's your favourite colour, Malfoy?"

"Are you deaf, Potter?" Draco said, grabbing his ear, and pulling on it. "GreeeeeN" He said directly into Harry's ear.

"No it isn't. You're lying."

"Why the hell would I lie about my favorite sodding colour!"

"Because it's part of your image. Your Draco Bloody Malfoy image. Your favorite colour isn't green. Just like you don't _actually_ hate half-bloods… or me, for that matter."

Draco stared at him like he had just grown antennae, and huge multi-faceted eyes. They sat and stared at each for a minute or so before Draco finally said. "For your information, oh presumptuous one, I happen to have a strong dislike for half-breeds of any kind, _and_ I happen to think of you with utter and complete loathing. _Loa-thing_. Do you know what that word means, Potter? I mean, it is a whole two syllables."

"Of course, loathing. Utter dislike. Hatred. Right. Got it. So, what's your favorite colour?"

"I've told you twice already, what the bloody hell is wrong with you? And why is it so important to know what my bloody favorite colour is!"

"Because lying about your favorite colour is the root of all your problems."

"The root of all my… Jesus H. Christ." Draco pulled his fingers through his hair. "If I tell you what my…. _Real_ favorite colour is will you shut the fuck up? Maybe even let me out of this room?"

"I don't know about letting you out of the room, but maybe I'll shut-up."

Draco considered this for a moment, "fine." Draco squared his shoulders, and arranged his features as though he were preparing for battle. "If you laugh, Potter, I'll kill you, okay? I'll kill you."

Harry would've made a comment about how if the _second_ most powerful wizard in the world couldn't kill him, he doubted that a 17-year-old kid could…. But he was too intrigued to piss off Draco more. "Got it. I won't laugh."

"Okay." Draco took a deep breath, "alright. My favourite colour is… magenta." Harry snorted, and then attempted to turn his stifled laughter into a coughing fit. "Ha.Ha.Ha. Bugger off, Potter."

Snort, "what?" snort, giggle, cough, "I'm not-" giggle, snort, "saying" snort "anything!" Draco sighed melodramatically. "I'm sorry," giggle "but, pink! I didn't" giggle cough "expect it to be _pink_!"

"Not pink. _Magenta_. There's a difference."

"What's that?"

"It's subtle, I wouldn't expect someone of your low mental capacity to comprehend it."

"You're such a queer, Malfoy."

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Not!"

"Too!"

"Not!"

"Too!"

"Not!"

"Not!"

"Too! Oh, dammit." Draco growled, and threw himself back against the wall, "ow. Oh, bugger." Harry had his fist in his mouth to try and prevent himself from laughing. "Alright, Potter, you've had your fun. _Now_ can I get out?"

"Nope, sorry. I'm not done with you yet." Draco looked murderous, so Harry gave him the sweetest, most innocent smile he could.

"Alright, but if I'm stuck in here, then I get to interrogate you, too."

"Fair enough."

"Okay, well then, er…" Draco realized he had nothing to ask. "What's your… favourite colour?"

"Green."

"Excuse me?"

"My favourite colour is green."

"Now you're just fucking around." Draco said with a wry smile.

"No, honestly, green is my favourite colour."

"Prove it."

"How do you expect me to do that?"

"_Why_ do you like green so much?"

"I dunno', I guess because my mum's eyes were green."

"Oh." Draco apparently had nothing to say to that because he didn't say anything more, and _Harry_ certainly didn't feel like saying anymore.

"Do you wish your parents were still alive?"

Harry blinked, "That's a very stupid question, Malfoy."

"I mean, because if You-Know-Who hadn't attacked you and your parents he would never have been defeated… and, uh, well, obviously you don't want him around."

"I never thought of it that way. But… I still think, no, never mind."

"I won't think anything bad about you thinking selfishly, Potter. I mean, I'm out to get all I can for myself, and if anyone has a problem with that then they can bugger off for all I care."

"That, Draco, is an interesting philosophy."

Draco blinked, "What did you just call me?"

"What? What d'ya mean?"

"Did you just call me 'Draco'?"

"Uh… I dunno', did I?"

"Yes, you did." Draco said, with an air of triumph in his voice.

"What does it matter if called you 'Draco', it _is_ your name."

"Whatever you say, _Potter_."

"Are you insinuating something,_ Malfoy_?"

"No, nothing at all. I just find it funny that you used my first name, but you remain 'Potter' to me."

"Oh, yea?" Harry said, getting defensive, he knew what Draco was getting at, and dreaded it. Because, after all, he _didn't_ care at all about Draco Malfoy. He could drop dead for all Harry cared… yea, that's right! He could die, and Harry wouldn't shed a tear, not one single bloody tear.

"Yea, _Potter_."

"It doesn't mean anything, _Malfoy_, so let it go."

"What if I don't want to."

"Then I'll have to-" Harry struggled to find an appropriate punishment for his nemesis. "-to-"

"What, Potter?" Draco asked, leaning close.

"Uh," Harry said, drawing back slightly.

"What's wrong, Potter, cat got your tongue?"

"No, actually, I just-" Harry was cut off because Draco had decided that he was done waiting, and had caught Harry's lips in an impatient kiss. Harry responded automatically, letting Draco's tongue slip into his mouth, completely forgetting that he was trying to think of an appropriate jinx for the boy.

He did, however, regain his mind before things progressed too far. "Hey!" Harry said, grabbing Draco's shoulders, and holding him at arm's length. "I had a point!"

"And now it's gone." Draco said, wriggling out of Harry's hold. "Time to move on."

Harry covered his mouth with the back of his hand, and then pushed Draco away, "no it isn't!"

"Yes, it bloody well is! If you refuse to satisfy my needs, then you better let me out of this closet!" Draco pushed at Harry, attempting to move him away from the door. "Move it, Pothead."

"Nope." Harry said, contentedly, pushing against Draco so he wouldn't be moved.

"Fine." Draco said and stopped pushing, Harry fell to the side, at the same moment that Draco performed a spell to move him, it went right over Harry and hit the door.

Although his _spell_ had failed, Harry was now out of his way. Draco leaped over Harry, grabbed the doorknob, twisted, pushed and- and… "oh bugger." Draco said, hitting his head against the door with a dull 'thud'.

"You broke the door." Harry stated flatly.

"Yes." Draco said with a very heavy sigh.

"Now we're stuck here until someone wants something from in here."

"And that something would be…?" Draco glanced skeptically around the room.

"Uh…" Harry searched for something that would be of use, "chairs?"

"Broken chairs?"

"We're fucked."

"Indeed."

"I suppose we'd better make the best of our situation."

"I knew you'd come around." …

**Part II:**

In the hall outside the closet a certain Ronald Weasley was walking merrily along. He was in a very good mood, despite still being angry that his best friend had stabbed him in the back. But, he wasn't thinking about that now, no, our dear red-head was thinking of the most beautiful, wonderful girl in all the world: Hermione Granger. The subject of Hermione Granger tended to make Ron feel all warm and fuzzy, similar to the feeling he got after a very good meal- only, he didn't have to stuff his face to achieve it.

All in all, Ron was in a very fine mood, if he had been a 12-year-old girl he would've been walking down the halls skipping and singing to himself. But, since he was _actually_ a 17-year-old boy, he was only whistling erratically.

Anyway, Ron was walking down the hall when he heard a strange sound coming from behind one of the doors. It sounded like someone had knocked on the door… from the inside. Thinking that some poor first year had somehow gotten themselves locked in, and being in a good, helping mood, he decided he'd open the door for the poor midget. Oh, Ron, you foolish boy.

When Ron opened the door it was not a small 10-year-old that rolled out… oh no. It was none other than a shirtless Harry Potter, and Draco Malfoy left with only boxers on. Of course, their combined weight was enough to knock Ron over, and the three boys ended up in a strange tangle of limbs, the only distinguishable features the mops of red, black, and blonde hair.

They sat there for a moment, all stunned into silence, until Ron broke the silence with a bizarre and impossible sound combination of a scream and a whimper.

"Thanks for getting us out of there, Weasley. Don't know what we would have done without you."

Silence.

And then poor Ron, broke down, and screamed bloody murder.

-

Hopefully no one is within hearing distance, eh?

It'll be pretty long breaks between updates because I am _swamped_, I am the definition of busy.

How is it that I have no life, and yet also have no free-time. You'd think my life would be _exciting_! but no…. oh, no.

Oh, and to clarify something I'm not sure I did coherently, that probably will be discussed later, but I'd like to clear it up now, as it was of some worry to my dear friend FireLass. Ron is _not_ homophobic, he just hates Draco Malfoy. If Harry were shagging Seamus Finnigan, Ron would be worried about having shared a room with the two of them for years, but really be perfectly comfortable with it.

Also, Hermione isn't entirely supportive of Harry's, uh, thing with Draco, she just didn't want Harry to go shoot himself because he felt like no one loved him. Ron's isn't as far-sighted as that.

A HUGE thanks to FireLass for being my editing goddess, and a fiery-haired personification of beauty that always brightens my day, even if she is a member of the mafia -

She isn't, really. She's just Italian. And semi-Chicagoan, her family is anyway. Speaking of which, my mom's old high school in Chicago is now run by the Mafia. HAHAHAHAHAHA! I almost peed my pants laughing when she told me that.

Thank you sooo much to all my reviewers, it means so much to me that you take time out of your days not only to read, but to review, thank you, thank you, thank you.

Also any criticism is not only accepted, but encouraged. Thank you, please come again.


	6. World Keeps Spinning

**Music: **Candide!: The Musical- London Cast (?) (on repeat: "Make Our Garden Grow")

Ah! A million apologies for not updating earlier. This chapter has been refusing to be written… not that I have any spare time anyway. Life is really stressful right now, and I have next to no free time.

-

**Part I:**

"Ron, just shu-huh?" Harry was cut off by the fact that he was now staring at, Luna Lovegood- a Luna Lovegood who had put her face maybe two inches from his own. "Uh… heh, hiiii, Luna." Harry said, in a very uncomfortable tone.

"Hullo, Harry." Luna said brightly, as though she saw nothing odd about the situation, despite the fact putting her face in Harry's also meant she was practically eating Ron's shoe. "I'm glad you've finally found some happiness." Her voice had that distant quality it always did, her face had that same dopey smile, and the ever-present twinkle in her eyes was working over-time. She blinked at Harry, and then looked up past him in the direction of Ron's head. Then she continued, in an innocent voice, "Don't you agree, Ronald?" Ron didn't make a sound.

Luna smiled and shrugged. Then she stood, and patted Harry's head absent-mindedly as she stuck her nose in a book, Harry thought the title was _Belief Without Proof: A Tell-All Guide_, but he couldn't be sure. Before he could call after her to check she had disappeared.

"Right." Said Harry after a few moments silence.

"You attract the oddest sorts, Potter." Draco said softly.

"Get the fuck off of me, Malfoy." Ron growled.

"I would be happy to, provided _your_ friend gets off of _me_."

"Harry, move!" Harry sighed, and complied. Then reached down to help Ron up, when he turned to help Malfoy, the boy was already up.

Ron turned to say something to Harry, and then stopped- "Would you mind putting a shirt on, Harry?" He said, surprisingly calmly. Then he turned to Malfoy, "and you! Put on some bloody pants!" Ron said, almost shielding his eyes.

Malfoy shrugged, and watched with amusement as Harry rushed to retrieve their clothes, and ran back out, pulling on his shirt. "Okay." He said, in a satisfied voice to Ron.

"Alright, Harry. I don't want to know what you were doing, but I do know that we still have homework to finish. I think we should get it done. _Now._" He said, glaring at Malfoy.

"Good idea, Ron." Harry forced a smile, and turned awkwardly to Malfoy, and shrugged, "Bye, then." Malfoy looked less than pleased about the whole situation, but tried to pull off a nonchalant shrug, and proceeded to walk away.

Harry turned back to Ron, who was his trademark red color, but who seemed to be controlling himself surprisingly well. Harry decided to stay silent, and move as soon as Ron had regained some semblance of composure.

It took much less time than Harry thought it would. Harry estimated that about two minutes had passed when Ron took a deep breath, "Right. Okay, let's go then, Harry." Harry nodded and mutely followed Ron back to Gryffindor.

**Part II:**

Upon arrival, Ron collapsed next to Hermione on the couch. "Oh, there you are! Where were you two?" Hermione said cheerfully; then she saw Ron's still flushed face, and Harry's sheepish one. "Oh." She said. "Uh, have a seat Harry?" She said, patting the spot on the opposite side of her. Ron didn't object, which made Hermione very relieved. "Harry your stuff is still here from when you were working last night. I took the liberty of going over both of your Astronomy essays. They weren't too bad, actually." She said, pulling them out of her bag, and handing them over.

Ron beamed at her, and kissed her on the cheek. "You're the best, Hermione!" He said, unrolling his parchment and beginning to reread.

"I hope you're not expecting a kiss from me as well." Harry said, when Hermione gave him an expectant look as she handed his essay over.

"Oh, no, Harry, sorry. I was just thinking about- but, never mind."

"Okay." Harry said, haltingly, taking his essay with the air of someone handling a bomb about to explode.

"And I don't think either of you have done your Divination homework, so you might want to do that." Ron and Harry groaned, "You should've dropped the course long ago."

They knew she was right, and therefore made no response. The trio worked until dinner, and spent the time after sitting by the fire in companionable silence…

Until Ron jumped ten feet in the air, practically throwing Hermione- who had been leaning on his shoulder- onto the floor. "Harry!"

"Ah!" Harry screamed, since Ron had scared him out of his involved examination of the fire, "What?" He snapped, annoyed at Ron for interrupting his "thoughts".

"Malfoy called me Weasley!" Harry looked at him like he was crazy, "Today, when-"

"Shut-up, Ron!" Harry said, casting a nervous glance around the common room, relieved that the only people still there were a few fifth years who were completely absorbed in their work. Still, never know if they're _listening_, "Keep it down, okay?"

"Oh," Ron said, his gaze flickering to the fifth years and back. "Sorry." Hermione jabbed him in the elbow, "Ouch! Oh, right," Ron attempted an endearing smile. "Sorry, Hermione, it won't happen again?"

"That's right it won't, or I'll jinx you until you're nothing but a puddle of off-coloured goo on the floor." Ron swallowed nervously, and Harry chuckled. "Now, what were you saying?" Hermione continued calmly.

"I was saying," Ron whispered to the other two, making Harry practically lay across Hermione to hear him, "That Malfoy called me Weasley. He's never called me that." He looked pointedly at Harry, "Why'd he do that?"

Harry shrugged, "I dunno'. Maybe he was in a good mood?" Harry didn't know why he was lying, but he did it anyway.

"Wouldn't that make him _want_ to be a rude little git?"

"I guess not." Harry said, as nonchalantly as he could, and leaned back to his original position. Trying to ignore the curious looks his friends were giving him, "What?"

"You asked Malfoy not to call Ron 'Weasel' or anything stupid like that, didn't you, Harry?" Hermione's voice was triumphant, but Harry didn't say anything, having picked up a book to pretend to be interested in after the word 'asked'. Harry had failed to notice that he had grabbed Hermione's ancient runes book, and couldn't understand a word of it. "I'll bet you asked him not to call me a-" Hermione sniffed in a semi-haughty way, "A mudblood." Harry again didn't respond, Hermione reached over and pulled the book down so she could see his face. "Harry, there's no point pretending you're reading, because I know you can't possibly be reading that book." Harry sighed in defeat, and handed it to Hermione who put it in her bag.

"She's right, isn't she, Harry?" Ron sounded a little _too_ happy about this, which made Harry slightly worried.

"I'm not saying anything." Harry said stubbornly, but the smile tugging at his lips gave it away.

Ron chuckled softly, and leaned back into the couch. Hermione giggled, and ruffled Harry's hair affectionately. "Thanks, Harry." She said seriously, catching his eyes for a moment before he looked away.

Hermione leaned back against Ron's propped up knee, a pleased smile on her face. Harry smiled at the couple, and decided it was time to head up to bed. He grabbed his bag, patted Hermione affectionately on the knee, and went up the stairs to his room.

**Part III:**

Harry awoke with a start in the middle of the night. His scar ached, and he had a strange sense of vertigo. He squeezed his eyes shut to try and calm himself. He massaged his scar gently, hoping to dull the pain.

His occlumency _had _improved significantly, but he still picked up things from Voldemort… this time he couldn't remember what it was. He pulled open his bed hangings and looked around his room, as if expecting Voldemort to pop out of the corner. He didn't.

Harry sighed, and closed the hangings again. He sat in the middle of his bed, trying to remember what he had been dreaming, but he couldn't remember anything. It was like trying to grab fog, it just slipped through his fingers.

Harry knew that Voldemort must be feeling some sort of strong emotion, but Harry couldn't remember what. Or why.

Nonetheless, Harry was relatively sure that nothing terrible was happening, so he lay back down, closed his eyes, cleared his mind of thoughts, and slowly drifted back to sleep.

**Part IV:**

"Harry! Harry! Wake up!"

Harry checked his watch, and groaned, "We still have three hours till cla-"

"Harry, that's not… oh, bloody Hell… "

Harry cocked an eyebrow, and sat up. Ron looked _very_ worried, and maybe a little sick. "What? What's going on?"

"Harry!" Harry barely had time to register Hermione's presence before she had flung her arms around him. "I'm sorry, Harry." Her eyes were red, and there were tears slowly traveling down her cheeks.

"Would somebody please tell me what's going on!"

"You mean Ron didn't tell you?" Harry shook his head 'no'. Hermione took a deep breath, and wiped the tears off her face. "Harry, there's been an attack on the Ministry."

**Part V:**

"What?" Harry looked from Hermione, to Ron and back again. "That's not funny, you two."

"It's not a joke." Ron said, while Hermione shook her head vehemently.

"How many dead?" Harry said with a pang in his heart. There hadn't been any attacks in a while, it made it that much harder to ask- that much harder to know.

"It was late at night, there weren't many casualties, but…" Hermione hiccupped and trailed off, shifting away from Harry as she did so.

"But, what? Tell me, dammit!"

Ron swallowed hard, "Kingsley Shacklebolt, is-" Deep breath, "He's dead, Harry." Hermione sobbed softly, and moved to lean on Ron's shoulder. Harry didn't notice, didn't care. He was too busy trying to make the world stop spinning.

-

I'm a bitch, I know it, but it's the best place to end this chapter.

I've already started work on chapter 7, so I doubt the wait will be as long. Plus, this is my lighter quarter, so I have more time... woot!

Just FYI, I agonized over who to kill, as FireLass can attest to. She had a different, and v. good suggestion, which got me thinking… and I wanted it to hit hard, but not be, like if Lupin or Mad-Eye died… I just killed Kingsley Shacklebolt.

Does it make ya'll happier if I tell you I cried writing that?

I'm, like, one giant tear-duct.

Yar, doesn't allow anything anymore! So, I'm breaking the chapters up into labeled parts, but I'm genuinely curious as to why we can't use dashes, or asterisks, or even parentheses or ellipses to break up our chapters! They do that in books, why not online? YAR! I don't want to post if I only have 100 words, what's the point? _So_ not worth the time of posting it. Grr.

Anyway, I'm going to go back and change all the other chapters to be like this, too, for solidarity.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed! It makes my day!

As always, criticism is encouraged- tell me what I need to do to improve, please!


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